


Incongruent Perception

by CinerealThinker (Darksinokaru)



Series: Alternative Fate [1]
Category: Berserk (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Angst, Bottom Guts, Clumsy Sex, Emotional Baggage, Graphic Sex, Guts pined for Griffith, Heavy - Freeform, M/M, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Pre-Eclipse, Romance, and confesses, fix it fic sorta, right after Griffith's rescue, short-lived oral sex, smut to come, uke Guts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2020-12-16 19:37:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21041651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darksinokaru/pseuds/CinerealThinker
Summary: Nothing will change the fact that Griffith's words drove Guts away, and nothing will change the fact that Guts had always been the exception to the rule. Two hearts, perceiving falsehoods can only bring pain. But when reconciliation is upon them, they may become one.Griffith/GutsA short story surrounding the moment in the wagon after Griffith is rescued. Except Guts confesses love to Griffith.





	1. The Confession

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, so um... this is my first time writing in this fandom. I hope I do all right and write everything well, including our two boys. 
> 
> I do not own Berserk or any related materials. 
> 
> I hope anyone who clicked on this enjoys it.

The pain in his body had numbed his nerves most of the day. The cold, however, that always made the pain come alive. Shocks to the system. Never had he experienced it, such torment. Being peeled like a ripened potato as skin was flayed to look at the pink beneath. The destruction of his once pure white skin, the blood that tarnished it with its bright crimson as bruises of deep blacks and yellowish browns marred him where scar tissue had filled in his missing flesh. The loss of his tongue had been the most difficult, nearly drowning in his blood before it was burned shut and the compulsive need to swallow but never feeling his tongue in his mouth. Starvation had been hell, made worse when he would be force fed crumbs of bread and water, keeping him alive and in constant digestive hell. The chains bit so deep into his bloody wrists, permanently scarred as his body devoured his muscle in a fevered desire to live. Eventually, he was released from his chains, but only because he could no longer run, the tendons in his legs and wrists slashed, and his body too skeletal to muster any strength.

The words that hissed from snake-like lips were crude and disgusting as hands groped and invaded the most personal parts of his body with a clear sexual perversion, at times pulling and piercing with a variety of sharp objects never meant to be used on the human form. It was with intent to deeply insult him when they pushed his helmet down onto his head, the former leader of the band of the Hawk degraded and broken, bones smashed and body ravaged. But never did he beg, though he eventually gave into screams of revulsion for his predicament, in his pain, but his eyes never betrayed his pride, much to his torturer's chagrin. Willful until the very end. When he stopped responding, stopped moving it was assumed he was dead in the head, and though perhaps there was some truth to those words, the ember of life within the once miraculous leader had yet to extinguish. He had not actually given up, not yet, not fully. The nightmares that he began to endure, the horror and gore, the frightening and distorted, grotesque shapes of fleshy masses that cried for him, called for him, crawled toward him, begged him, pleaded for him. Even in his most deep fear, he could not move, his body so weak and broken, forcing him to stare at the horrors that filled his cell at night unless he were to close his eyes. 

There was one thing, one thing that kept him from truly succumbing, from shattering. It was him, that man. A man he hated, a man he detested: betrayal, fear, pain, longing, affection, love. It was all so hard to grasp, to believe. How could that man leave him? Could he not see, just how much he needed him? Had he not been attentive enough? Had he not given him all he needed? Perhaps he should have listened more, talked with him more, learned what he feared, what he loved, what he dreamed. He had been so certain, absolutely, that the person who caused all of his suffering held him most dear, so then why leave? Griffith stared into the darkness, more often than not in his moments of solitude, eyes wet with tears. He couldn't see that face anymore. He would never see that face again. Never see that soft smile, the gleam in those dark eyes when their gazes met. Never would he hear that deep, rumbling voice, that rough laugh or the tenor of his voice when his mood was perked. No, all he saw was darkness and heard the rumbling demons of a dark torture chamber.

And then, breaking through the haze, through the barren fields of his mind, lingering on death and monstrous thoughts, was a blinding light. So bright, so dazzling that he could scarcely see, but still he stared, finding to his stupefication that the powerful arms that grabbed him, the familiar face that turned from him and cried out, voice deep and snarling. The shock to his system, the spark that burned through every nerve ending, forcing his heart to beat again as his mind tried to engage the muscle fibers in his body to move for the first time in what felt like a decade. It couldn't be real, surely if he could touch it, simply raise his hand up, he would find it all a mirage, another longing dream. And then, he felt instant confliction. Anger swelled within his chest as he found himself zeroing in on the thick neck above him. Even if a dream, if it was a dream, he could hurt him. All his efforts, summoning all the strength he possessed, he rose his hand and to his shock, he touched something solid and warm, soft and wet with sweat. Those dark eyes he had stared into many times before turned toward him and he watched as they twisted sharply in deep, intimate pain when met with his shadowed gaze. Bulging eyes stared wide up at the man that had destroyed everything, had ruined everything. No... he knew it wasn't fair, the man before him loved him, he knew he did, and it made his actions that fateful night all the more illogical. Why leave the person you love? But there he was, his body so warm, almost burning hot as the man turned his head and spoke to someone else before gazing back down at him. Those dark eyes reflected so many swirling emotions, conflicting and dancing together, all originating from one source emotion-love. And he watched, mesmerized as the glistening in those eyes bubbled over into tears as water, precious water streamed down his face and splattered Griffith's dry eyes. His anger suddenly sucked out of him as his hand quivered before it was grabbed and he was cradled against that man's powerful chest, dearly, lovingly, in grief. As his arm wound around Griffith's skeletal waist he felt a burning heat in his hollow chest, and rest his hand upon the other's. 

"Griffith, we're going to get you out of here," his deep voice fell over the captive man, prompting his starved lips to part and try to speak, but only broken, whispery sounds escaped him. He wished to say his name, desperately he wanted to, somehow still finding it hard to believe who he saw before him. The man's hand tightened on his body, strong and sure as he was lifted to sit upright while a cloak was draped over his naked, broken, skeletal form. To his other side came two men he knew well, and suddenly his mind kicked into gear. He was being rescued by his men with that man at the charge. It didn't take much, when the torturer made himself known, the rage that overcame his friend, so powerful and all-consuming as he rushed, charged forward, blade presented before him as it pierced through the ugly imp's body. He wasted no time, taking the lead and leaving a passionate trail of carnage in his wake. Griffith couldn't help it, the way it made his heart race and quiver to see just how much the man that had once been cold and unwanting of anything, had come to love him so much that he was willing to fight an entire unit on his own, not satisfied until he exacted a justified, but no doubt barbaric, revenge. 

Surviving battles and overcoming obstacles, they came out free and on the run, and still, Griffith could not stop staring at that powerful back. The man had always been a herculean one, so large and thick with muscle, somehow he looked like he had gotten even bigger, stronger while he himself had shrivelled. In time they rejoined the Band of The Hawk. To his chagrin, Griffith lacked the strength to move and had to be dressed, cleaned and fed like a babe, unable to do anything himself. Much to his relief, his helmet had not been removed or the face lifted since that man's initial inspection, he could only imagine what had become of him over the year of torture and was glad to be saved one more humiliation. His returned companion sat at his side every night. Never did he speak, but never did he ignore him, nor did he flinch when Griffith's weak attempts to touch him succeeded, as he had once when Griffith had touched him in the past. It took almost no effort at all to get his friend to lay with him while he slept the night away, unable to believe how blessed he was to be dressed in clean clothing, to have a pillow and a blanket in a warm, safe place. And even more, more precious than anything else, more than bedding, more than freedom or food, he had the one person that had come to mean more to him than anything, back at his side. Caring and gentle, silent but sturdy in his presence. 

"Griffith, there's something I need to tell you. It's probably a bad time, but I've been thinking about it a lot, and I don't exactly have much tact," his companion suddenly declared into the silence one night, drawing Griffith to full alert. His friend sat up, one leg drawn to his chest as his muscle thick arms wrapped around it. 

"I'm back, and I'm not going anywhere. Everyone keeps saying that I don't need to be here since I left, but they just don't get that I... I have my own reasons for wanting to stay, and they have absolutely nothing to do with obligation. You might not believe me, but leaving was the hardest thing I had ever done, which sounds weird, but it was." Griffith stared up at his friend, gaze locked on the back of his head. 

"This is... really hard to say out loud. But... I'll come out with it: I love you." Those words caused such a race in his heart that Griffith shifted in discomfort amidst his bedding as the shock pierced into his chest. He had known, he had known for a long time. But to hear such a thing, from his friend, in his own voice and words, it was powerful and nearly maddening as Griffith's breath grew rapid and shallow. Alarmed, his companion turned toward him, cheeks stained red as he leaned over toward him.

"Are you okay?! Y-you don't need to freak out about it. I promise that I won't bother you or say anything about it anymore, so please, calm down! You're re-opening your wounds!" he whispered desperately. Griffith's lips parted, sounds and gasps passing his lips as water filled his eyes. It wasn't fair. 

"Guts, is everything okay?" Guts turned toward the entrance of the wagon and nodded.

"Yeah, the cold is bothering his wounds. I got it," he lied, and after a brief hesitation, the curtain was dropped. Almost simultaneously, Griffith settled, agitation marring his features hidden inside his helmet. Griffith's nearly bone-thin arms reached up out of his blanket and grabbed at his helmet, quivering as his bandaged fingertips slipped along its smooth surface.

"What are you doing? You want it off?" Guts asked as he shuffled over to Griffith and took hold of the blonde's helmet. Carefully, watching to see if his friend tried to stop him, he cautiously opened and removed the molded iron, making sure to cradle the blonde's thin neck. Griffith stared up at him, bulging eyes wide and pupils blown. So gaunt was his face, his hair so thin that he was bald in some spots. His large, rounded eyes stared out from his skull, lips dry and cracked as he panted for breath. The scarred flesh of his left cheek was most definitely the most galling impurity upon his once beautiful, snow-white skin. Guts settled the helmet down to the side as Griffith's hands grabbed weakly onto his shirt, prompting him to lean down curiously. With arms shaking, Griffith's hands dragged up Guts' shirt to his shoulders where his bony hands settled without any real grip and urged, attempted to pull on his powerful frame. With red growing darker in his cheeks, Guts leaned down until he was bent entirely over Griffith, his face so close to his leader, the person had come to adore more than anyone else, that he could feel the warmth of his ragged breath on his face. Guts remained still, waiting to see what happened next when he was pulled on again as the muscles all over Griffith's body tensed and trembled violently in effort until he managed to pull himself up until their lips touched.


	2. Deepening Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Still, the moment was tense and difficult to gauge in which direction it could go. But Guts swore, deep within his heart, that he would never leave this man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The heated moment between Guts and Griffith continues in this chapter as they clumsily try to communicate and make their moves.
> 
> Hello, thank you to everyone who has shown support, it really means a lot. I hope that this chapter is liked well enough. This chapter focuses more on Guts' perspective, rather than Griffith's.
> 
> I do not own Berserk or any of its related materials.

What was it like? Guts couldn't help the slight tremble that worked through his muscles, the shudder that brought with it the inclination to pull away. Fear tickled the base of his spine, wanting to urge his legs to run, but the feeling of those bone-thin fingers pressed against the flesh of his skin made the instinctive response weaker. It wasn't a natural instinct, it had nothing to do ultimately with survival on a base level like the desire for life, he knew that, but Guts still remembered the terror and deep, agonizing pain of being torn into, violated in a place so intimate, so out of reach that there was nothing he could do to make it better long after the wounds had been inflicted. Griffith's arms shook with strained effort as his fingers found their way into Guts' chopped black hair, weaving into the short, soft, uneven spikes. The blonde caught his eyes again, and Guts found himself trapped, entranced by those overpowering blue gems, even in his broken state, Griffith's eyes held a magical sort of power, a spell still in effect that commanded every part of him. The red on his cheek grew more pronounced as his heart thrummed with maddening determination in his chest. 

"Griffith," he whispered, finding to his chagrin that his voice hiccupped slightly with a catch of breath in his throat. Griffith's atrophied right leg lifted up, the pronounced bone of his knee cap bumping his hip. His fingers meekly roved through Guts' hair, as his breath ghosted in shallow, uneven breaths. His eyes were imploring, demanding as he gazed up at the larger man, wanting what Guts had spent his entire adult life avoiding, cursing, and anguishing over. For a time Guts had not even been able to think of sex or pleasure as anything but a gross shame. He knew it wasn't natural, and it at times warred with him, tormented him, until he settled in with the Hawks. Everything changed when he met Griffith, his fear, disgust, hatred of the past and its acts had faded into nothing more than a malnourished ghost. But, here he was, faced with it, and his heart ached. He loved those eyes, so full of passion and dreams, vigor and strength. And somehow, in that moment, it was all back, in that gaze peering up at him through long, thick lashes. There was a twitch in the muscles of his back, a tickle from his old fears that wanted still to run, but as he pressed his lips against Griffith's he felt his heart do a sudden and powerful flip before settling into a gentle flutter. 

He loved this man, this man that he had destroyed. Why was it, that so many things he cherished he ruined? All he wanted was to be noticed, to have a chance of being more than an underling, a trusted guard dog. Guts knew he could never have the love that he had one point denied vehemently, but he could only kid himself for so long. And so he left, wanting to make sure he measured up in Griffith's eyes. Desperate enough he was, he even at one time or another entertained the idea of being all right, okay with being a secret lover. But, ah, Griffith wasn't attracted to men, was he? The revelation that Griffith had slept with that governor of Doldrey had made his heart skip a beat with a horrible, selfish flash of hope until he realized that it meant nothing. Not at all. At least, that was the conclusion he came to. Griffith would never love him, not even as a fleeting fancy unless alcohol or drugs were involved. 

But there he was, corrected. Though he questioned the validity of Griffith's desire, after all, he had been isolated and tortured horribly for a year. There was no shortage of stories and examples of men losing their minds to lust after long voyages and trips. Was this that? Or was there more? There was so much heat in Griffith's gaze for what he desired at that moment it was hard to tell, though it wasn't like Griffith had ever been an easy man to read, nor Guts a good reader. Griffith's lips parted and Guts felt his heart jump into his throat. Trepidation gripped him tightly, bringing back his itching childhood fear as anxiety rocked him, wondering what he was to do. What if he did something Griffith didn't like or want? The fingers in his hair pressed to his scalp, urging, and though uncertain in his interpretive skill, Guts slid his tongue into his best friend's mouth. The lack of a tongue was an immediate notice, but the most alarming feeling was what was left, moving until he worriedly touched the stump with his own. 

There was a soft sigh from Griffith, appearing satisfied when their tongues met as his fingers began to move, trembling again with weakness. Guts relaxed, encouraged by Griffith's reaction to his decision and allowed himself to figure out how to actually kiss someone. He found it easier to angle his head somewhat as he focused on breathing through the nose, as he had noticed his friend did and explored around his orifice. If he could give Griffith a new body, he would, and he wondered briefly if such a thing were possible. Sealing their lips more fully, Guts took in a deep breath through the nose and relaxed as his eyes dropped closed. Griffith's hands slowly moved from his head to the back of his neck before dropping softly to his upper back before gripping the fabric. Guts pulled away to where he sat straddling his friend's legs lightly when he felt tugging on his shirt and looked into Griffith's face; there was a flush of pink to his sickly pale cheeks, but those eyes were as demanding as ever. 

With his heart once again renewing its sprint in his chest, Guts nervously grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it off over his head, revealing the series of bandages that had been wrapped around his chest and shoulders, mirroring the blonde at that moment. Griffith made a vocal, low sound, attempting to speak as his hands moved and gently pressed to Guts' sides before splaying his fingers out and roving them up to his supple chest. It reminded him of the time there had been a joke making the rounds in the band, proclaiming that he had the biggest and most magnificent chest, enough to put a woman to shame. It had been annoying and a tad bit embarrassing at first, but once he joined in, making jokes about his chest himself the interest in it died, but he still thought about it just about every time he looked at himself, finding himself giving a solitary chuckle or smile. A small snicker passed his lips, drawing Griffith's eyes up to his face.

"You wouldn't happen to know where the joke about me having the greatest tits came from, do you?" he asked in jest. Griffith stared for at him for a moment, though he could have sworn he saw a small twitch of the man's lips, a diminutive upward curve. Guts gave another small laugh. 

"Well, they're here for you if you want'em, though I get that it's not the same as a woman," he declared, though the last of his statement ended up somewhat bashful with a slight turn of the head as Griffith's hands further explored the swell of his chest. When Guts focused his eyes on Griffith's face again he was surprised to see just how fixated the man's eyes had become as he watched his fingers stroke over the soft, firm swell of muscles beneath his palms, causing another fluttering skip in his heart. It was when Griffith's hands changed direction, dragging lower to the thin belt that held his pants to his hips that a small stutter of breath passed his lips, drawing Griffith's powerful gaze once more to his face, which only made his heart jump around more. His friend's lips parted, a barely audible sound passing through them and Guts gave an awkward grunt as he put his hands over Griffith's. 

"I can undress if you want," he said softly and their gazes held for a moment before Griffith gave a nod. The heat in his face had to have been hotter than an iron forge as he stood up with his back hunched and turned toward the back of the carriage. Guts tied the back entrance shut, crawled over toward the front and did the same, sealing them from the rider's bench. Carefully he made his way over the obstructive crates near the front and started tugging his belt loose. He could feel Griffith's gaze burning into his back because he had decided to turn out of pure shyness. The belt came apart and the pants suddenly sagged and were easily kicked off, and though he hesitated nervously, his loincloth was untied and dropped at his feet. Being naked around someone like this, being so exposed, it brought to the forefront, reviving that damned anxiety he always felt around men sexually. But the sound of movement drew Guts to look behind him, Griffith had shifted, moved, but had fallen over instead. Hurrying over, he knelt down by his friend's side and wrapped his arms carefully around his upper torso and picked him up to lean against the crate once more. Their eyes met, alerting Guts to the embarrassment, shame, and frustration that warred in Griffith's gaze as he grabbed hold and tugged at his braies. Guts' heart jumped into his throat and he felt his face flush, reminding him of his naked presence as he sat before Griffith.

"You want these off? I'll get them," he said as he leaned forward over his friend and worked the ties from around Griffith's waist and thighs before he pulled the loose fabric down. He had initially intended to look away respectfully, despite the recognition that they were entering into a sexual event, but his eyes couldn't help but notice the bulge that sprung free when he pulled the fabric away, revealing a flushed, swollen, and leaking cock that was followed by a soft small puff of breath from Griffith. Guts froze, feeling caught like a child peeping in on something they shouldn't. The touch of Griffith's bandaged fingers on his cheeks compelled him to look up, nearly dizzy, to which he then realized he had held his breath without realizing it, and let it go as a soft, awkward sigh. 

"I-I know it shouldn't be such a big deal, and I'm acting like a damn prude. I just... I've only had one experience with this sort of thing, and it was," Guts explained as his voice fell and he averted his eyes. "Really bad," he finished. He chanced another glance and immediately regretted it the moment he once again met those damnable eyes. His heart stuttered.

"God, you're so beautiful," he whispered and the look of shock on his friend's face snapped him from the enchantment he had fallen under thanks to the spell of those eyes. Griffith looked away, face tightening in dismay as his body shook in some sort of emotional reaction. Panic assailed him as Griffith's bone-thin legs drew up while the man attempted to lift his arms to hug himself. Oh, shit. He was such an idiot! His mind swam, trying to find something to say, something to undo what he had just done. No doubt his appearance was going to be an extremely sore subject, why did he have to say something so thoughtlessly? A part of Guts truly considered withdrawing, canceling this awkward and drawn out engagement, he was hardly confident in himself and he had seriously just upset the man he loved to the point that the entire thing may have just been ruined.

"Shit, I'm sorry," Guts said, letting his hold of Griffith's clothes go as he pulled away a little and pressed his right hand to his face, obscuring one eye. He winced, there was not one word that would make Griffith feel better, was there? Guts heaved a defeated sigh and hunched forward, eyes watching Griffith's tensed features as he cautiously neared Griffith until, suddenly, those blue eyes were on him. Anger, he could see it, flaring bright and hot. He thought to recoil but instead continued on, and placed a soft, tentative kiss to his friend's cheek before drawing back entirely. Fuck, did he feel humiliated. And dumb. He crossed his arms and turned away as he sat down on the floor of the wagon.

"I mean it though, even if you don't want to hear it or it upsets you, or whatever," Guts hunched over some more, sulking. "You haven't lost it, you know. You're still so damn... I dunno, primal? In your attractiveness? Like, it comes from deep down, from the very energy you radiate. Even right now, there's this glow about you, I think it radiates from your eyes the most. But it's more than that, like, physical energy, this powerful, instinctive beauty that, despite everything you've been through, it still there, pouring out of you," Guts explained before giving an annoyed grunt. He was making this worse! He should just help Griffith get his damn pants back on, get dressed, and go hide somewhere until dawn. He really fucked everything up. Of course, he did, he wouldn't be Guts if he didn't. He heaved a morose sigh.

"Look, how about I just help you get dressed and comfortable and uh... disappear. I-" A thud had Guts twisting sharply to look over his shoulder and see that Griffith was suddenly on his stomach, eyes wide and manic in expression. His lips parted, wheezing breath in a dreadful groan as his twitching fingers reached out. Alarmed, Guts turned back around and grabbed Griffith's hand.

"Hey! What the hell do you think you're doing?!" he gasped, looking at how his lower half had gotten completely swallowed and tangled by the blanket. Griffith's lips parted, more wheezing groans passed his lips, eyes looking up at Guts, his expression frantic, fearful, pleading. And then it struck, too slow like most things in his head. Guts lowered his head in shame. 

"I'm such a fucking dumbass," he grunted before raising his eyes and meeting Griffith's as he extended his other hand, bending forward to touch his friend's scarred, sunken cheek.

"I shouldn't have said it that way. I'm sorry, Griffith. I love you, I will stay with you, forever, even if you want me gone, I'll still be there, right by your side. You don't need to worry, I'm not going anywhere," Guts whispered softly as the gleam in his eyes grew warm with the tone of his voice.

"I'm a thoughtless cretin that adores everything about you, even the not so pretty bits," he added, watching as Griffith's eyes glittered with building moisture that bubbled over the surface from under his eyes and spilled over to roll down his cheeks. A sweet, gentle smile curved Guts' mouth as he pressed forward onto his knees, slid his arms under Griffith's armpits and lifted him before pulling Griffith into his arms, watching as his friend's braies fell off of his calves to the floor before he shuffled over to lay Griffith back down. He felt the touch of Griffith's hand on his cheek before a soft press of dry, trembling lips, which drew him to look down at his friend. Their eyes met and Griffith motioned weakly with his arm for Guts to lower his head, and then he did, their lips touched in a soft, chaste kiss.


	3. Deepening Bond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Griffith and Guts move that much closer to finally joining together in the most intimate and primal expression of affection. They just need to figure out how to actually get there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Sorry for the slow updates. I have the last part finished, I'll just be needing to read it over and correct anything I catch. So the last chapter should be up pretty quick. Don't want to leave anyone hanging for too long, particularly at this point in the story. 
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who has left kudos and comments! The support means so much! ^_^ It's been such a delight and really encouraging. 
> 
> I do not own Berserk or any related materials. 
> 
> I very much hope everyone who's made it this far enjoys!

It was frustrating, more than most anything he had encountered. Griffith could not remember a time in which he had been so flustered or impatient. To try and communicate was difficult, he still could not form proper words no matter how he tried, and his body was too weak and physically damaged to make any real gesturing. How was he to convey, to inform Guts what he wanted? He wanted him, wanted to put him in a situation in which there was no means of ever escaping. Guts loved him, he knew that, had known it, and he shamelessly had used it from time to time to ask things of Guts he would not have asked otherwise. Murder chief among them. Perhaps he was undeserving, too wicked for the purity of Guts' feelings. And yet, he could feel it, the vicious, most devastating betrayal of his departure. The pain that gripped his heart and raged through his mind, took control and ran amuck before he was left broken and hollow, coming to a close on the floor of his torture cell. 

He should have realized it beforehand, should have made the effort to think about something other than his own selfish desires-his dream. He had been so tunnel-visioned he had neglected other parts of his psyche. But he was a selfish man, had always been that way even as a child. But still, he neglected to realize the most basic of emotions budding and growing inside him. He loved Guts, truly, deeply, and put so much value in him. It was easy to recognize the immediate value of someone of Guts' stature, talent, and brute strength, particularly in war. But that was not what made them close, that was not what drew them together. He had been attracted to Guts, fascinated, captivated. In love. What could their lives have been like, if he had bothered to not be so shallow? But, it made little point now to ruminate on the past and guess on things that could not be changed. His body was broken, but his mind was still sharp, even if perhaps a tad manic. He was alive, he could find a way to start again, he would find a way. And he would have Guts at his side, not simply as a right-hand man, but a dear, beloved partner. Guts would most definitely volunteer to be Griffith's sword and shield, he knew that, and they could forge their own kingdom together if they had to. With Guts, he knew he could do it. 

They lied on their sides facing one another, so close they could feel one other's breath and the warmth of their bodies, Guts being particularly warm. Griffith had refused to let Guts dress him, and did all he could to try and get his shirt off, which Guts eventually helped him with. Weak but persistent use of his arms was all he had, and even though what remained of his muscles burned and ached from all the use, it was at least bearing fruit. Guts was starting to get the new language now, for what meager messages he could convey. They were under the blanket, tucked away and nude. Guts was clearly nervous. If Griffith could move and speak the way he wished, he would soothe him, assure him of this thing they were trying to do. It was probably the most drawn-out and awkward sexual encounter Griffith had ever had, but there was nothing that could be done but keep trying, he wanted, needed this. Guts mentioned that he had only experienced sex once and that it was very bad with a tone that expressed emotional wounds. 

Griffith almost wished Guts hadn't said anything, as it invited so many questions and concerns into his mind, and there was no way he could communicate them. Guts clearly seemed uncomfortable more than once, and Griffith did not miss the times he tensed or twitched away from his touch, nor the frustration that his friend expressed at his own reactions. He could only surmise someone had hurt Guts sexually, rape most likely. Guts was already a man, but still rather young when they had met. He didn't seem like a man who had recently been attacked by someone, which begged the question of Guts' age at the time of the memory's creation. The only real answer was a vile one. It explained so many things he had noticed at first meet: Guts' intense distrust, his refusal to compromise, his violent rejection of physical contact from anyone, men, in particular, his general volatile behavior, his insatiable need to be alone. Though all of those character quirks had slowly diminished over the years; they were telling.

Griffith extended his hand, his arm shaking and struggling to reach across the tiny gap between them and touched his friend's ample chest. When their eyes met his heartbeat sped up and he shuddered in weakness and joy under such a soft, affectionate, but strikingly awkward gaze. The way Guts' tanned skin reddened only made the softness of his cock start to swell once more. To think a man who once had such a steely guard could let himself show such weakness, it was truly precious. The feel of Guts' firm flesh was so warm, soothing to the aching in his fingertips. Nervously, his beloved's hand touched his own before gently sliding up toward his shoulder, drawing forth a most pleasant of shuddering across his skin as his cock swelled hot, delighted by such a loving touch. The feeling of that strong, calloused hand on the junction of his neck and shoulder drew forth a soft pleased moan from his cracked lips, eliciting a shudder down his spine as his eyes closed. Unable to voice his desires, Griffith opened his eyes and moved his hand, trying and finding with irritation that he could not grab the man's arm. Frustration twisted his brow despite the pulling pain in what remained in his muscles, but all at once it stopped when Gut's hand slid from his neck to touch his shoulder. Tension broken, Griffith looked to his fellow swordsman, a soft and tender look to the man's dark eyes as he inched closer.

"You want me closer?" he asked, his voice heavy. Though it was with reluctance Griffith relaxed and nodded as Guts sidled up closer until the blonde felt his hard prick brush against a firm belly of muscle. His friend's cheeks darkened as an awkward sound emitted from the back of his throat. Their eyes met and the larger of the two froze.

"Well, sucks that I'm so unfamiliar with this kind of shit. But, would it be all right if I... just explored you a bit?" Guts asked and Griffith gave a meager nod as his heart rate elevated, pumping excited blood through his veins. Nervously so Guts touched the blonde's side and stroked his calloused hands down his malnourished form. Griffith couldn't help the tremble in his muscles as he allowed his head to fall on his pillow, unable to keep it lifted anymore as he willed himself to not find any frustration in such slow progress that only made his cock ache. Slowly that strong, warm hand slid down and found the base of his flushed cock and a groan of pleasure oozed from the back of his throat when those deft fingers wrapped around him, eliciting a hot shudder of pleasure. A deep red filled Guts' face as he massaged his fingers into the firm flesh and a soft, rumbling moan escaped from Griffith as pleasurable shocks sparked through the length of his cock and into his balls. It had been so long with so much pain, just this barest of touch made his dick made him throb in such a powerful want Griffith couldn't help but realize he would not last long at all.

Griffith took in a deep breath as he lifted his tired arm and touched the wrist of the hand holding his prick. Guts' nervous eyes met his and the blonde offered a soft, reassuring smile that his friend mirrored perhaps a tad more shyly. Guts broke eye contact after the brief moment and went into action. His large body slid down as he urged Griffith to roll onto his back, and the blonde obliged as the blanket slipped away, revealing a head of dark, spiky hair hovering over his cock, still gripped in hand. Perhaps not wanting to appear anymore cowardly than he already did, his friend wasted no time in lifting the blonde's prick and wrapping his lips around the flushed, leaking head. A gasp tore from the back of Griffith's mouth in surprise, followed by a choked grunt as hot, satiny soft pressure enveloped the head of his cock and a strong, wet tongue swiped across the slit, sending sharp jolts of pleasure through every nerve. The blonde's muscles tightened despite pain seizing his body as his hips jerked and his eyelids fluttered. Ah, it felt so damned good, overpowering after so long. Clumsily Guts worked to keep his teeth from off of the sensitive flesh in his mouth while he gave his first suck and a low groan oozed from the blonde's mouth as his cock was sucked down deep into his friend's hot mouth. Not good. He was going to cum. He couldn't, not yet! He was finally getting something he so desperately wanted, from the person he had not realized he had wanted it from; he could not end yet! A hiss left Griffith's clenched teeth as his hands struggled but collapsed to his sides. His mouth opened.

"Stop!" but all that came out was some garbled moan that conveyed absolutely nothing. Frustration shot through every nerve ending in rapid speed, but to his surprise, the source of his frustration was gone in an instant. 

"Shit, didn't I get you with my teeth did I?!" Guts asked, his voice a harsh whisper as he leaned up over Griffith's face and tried to decipher the blonde's expression. Grateful, the blonde's panted for breath as his body sought to recover from the sudden bolt of tension that had consumed him, his face flushed hot as he shook his head, though it made his vision swim. Under any other circumstance, any other moment, he could be satisfied in his current state with merely a pleasurable mouth. But no, he wanted something more intimate, emotional... something that truly would mark this man as his. But how could he ever, as what was becoming an all too frustrating train of thought, to convey it? If Guts hadn't expressed his previous trauma in regards to sex Griffith probably could have allowed himself to indulge in his friend's mouth and drift to sleep. He could claim Guts as his another time. But no, he wanted to make love to Guts, as properly as he could. If there was one damn thing he could still do in this world, it would be to show Guts the pleasure and positivity of sex. And what more primal, natural was there to express love than intercourse?

"So... everything's okay then?" Guts asked and Griffith nodded. The only thing he could do was try and gesture, as crude as it would appear. Body taxed, but fueled by stubborn energy, Griffith lifted his right arm even as it trembled and his hand struggled to lift properly. Guts watched, eyes taking on an intense light of thought as he tried to understand what was being said. Griffith's hand dropped on his pubis for a moment before he slid it up to his wet cock and wrapped his fingers around it. Lifting his hand he made a meager attempt of showing his hand sliding up and down the length of his dick, eyes trained on his friend's face as he watched, studying. After a quick moment Guts looked back to the blonde.

"My hand?" he asked and Griffith shook his head. After a moment Guts' expression lit up in realization as he looked down at his lap, his cheeks growing ever darker.

"Right. I get it. You want to have sex. Makes sense," Guts muttered even as discomfort could be seen attempting to work its way into the muscles of his face. But it was only a moment before his friend shook himself of his visible weakness and looked into the blonde's eyes with a soft smile. 

"Got it. Uh... you don't mind me using scented oil, do you? It's all I got," Guts said as he moved to the area of the wagon where his clothes were and pulled a small vial from his boot. He turned a grin to the blonde. 

"I lucked out and got some from a merchant desperate for a guard over a mountain pass. I was actually," Guts' words came to a sudden stop and his expression fell into a look of mild discomfort. 

"I uh... got it thinking of you since you always like to smell nice," he said. He only lingered on whatever thought troubled him for a moment before he appeared to wipe the emotion from his mind and walked on his knees back over toward Griffith. Carefully he pulled off the glass fitting over the lip of the bottle and met the blonde's gaze as he carefully slid it over under his nose. Griffith really didn't have such patience, but given the situation, he endured as he gave a soft sniff. It was delicate, a pleasant and herby aroma with a soft floweriness. Definitely, something Griffith would use. It really shouldn't be surprising that Guts would be able to pick out something like that for him if he paid attention to the blonde's scent. 

"You like it?" Guts asked and Griffith nodded, drawing forth a tender smile to his face. Carefully he pressed his fingers to the lip of the bottle before tipping it. Straightening it he pressed his fingers up against the side of Griffith's neck into his hairline, the soft curve about Guts' lips matching his eyes.

Griffith's shoulder trembled before his hand began to rise, prompting Guts to take hold of the bone-thin appendage. Their gazes locked, and the blonde watched in fascination at the way his friend's eyes softened in understanding.


	4. Becoming One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uh.... if you've read this far I think you know what happens here... *cue sexy music*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! Finally finished! I would have liked to have had this up a day or two ago, but life got in the way. Anyway, this little story is now at a close. I hope I handled everything all right, I'm a bit rusty and thus clumsy in my smut writing. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has left comments and kudos! It really means a lot to have your support! Thank you all so much! I hope the ending is decent. lol
> 
> I do not own Berserk or any of its related materials.

"I understand," Guts whispered as he pulled away and crawled over to straddle the blonde's lap. Though there was a shyness to his robust features he poured the slick oil into the palm of his muscle thick hand before he set the bottle to the side and slid his fingers around his best friend's swollen prick. A shallow breath slipped past the blonde's lips in pleasure as Guts' calloused hand stroked up and down his cock, slicking and massaging his dick with his fingers. Griffith groaned, the muscles in his fingers and thighs twitching as pleasure surged through his long-neglected cock, lighting a fire that consumed his blood and threatened to break free of his flesh. A sound emitted from Griffith, a warning to stop, but before he could fully vocalize his objection Guts had stilled his hand. 

"Okay, so uh... think you could help me?" Guts asked and the blonde's eyes settled on where their bodies connected, the warmth that radiated from his friend's powerful body saturating the tightly drawn flesh he touched. With weakness that still shook his overtaxed muscles, Griffith reached down, fueled by powerful want and wrapped his cadaverous fingers around the base of his cock, causing a pleasured stutter of his breaths which his heart mimicked. Guts took in a deep breath that swelled his chest and lifted himself up over Guts, one hand settling on the wagon floor while the other gently rest without much wait on Griffith's jutting hip. There was a moment of hesitation as the larger of the two batted away at ill-fitting thoughts before the breath was released and taken in again as he lowered himself down, reworking his angle until Griffith felt head of his slicked, leaking cock press against the soft ring of muscles that would permit entrance. If only he could move or speak, he could make things much easier with proper preparation. Hopefully, this would not bring too much harm to his friend, but in that same thought, though a selfish need ripped through the blonde, begging him to not care and simply push his hips up with whatever strength he possessed. It was too teasing, feeling the pressure of such pliant flesh pressing down on his prick. 

Griffith's jaw locked as tension shot through every muscle fiber, accelerating the racing of his heart as the heat in his body climbed higher and higher. So close, so near to a pleasure he had not felt in so long, and so nigh of pressing inside a body he had never realized just how much he wished to claim. To rub both them into euphoria. The pressure against the head of his cock increased a low moan bubbled from the back of his throat as his jaw popped open, muscle fibers aching in the wake of its release as the tip of his dick began to forcefully spread the muscles apart. Pleasure surged in trembling torrents through Griffith's nervous system as his eyes glazed and focus left his sight, denying him the sight of Guts' heavily flushed and tightened expression as he took breaths slow and deep while he continued to sit down. 

Guts cursed himself with his slow progress, without a doubt it must have been torturous to the blonde. Though with covert glances Griffith appeared to be lost in the rolls of pleasure, dispelling some of the man's concern. But he knew he was still taking too long, drawing it out, making it harder on the both of them. But each time Guts managed to move down every muscle in his body tensed as that old instinct shot up his spine. He was fine, he was in control here. He wasn't being hurt. He wasn't being attacked, he was doing this on his own volition. He wanted this, he truly did. To be one with Griffith was perhaps the only dream he'd ever truly entertained in his life, physically and more of course. If he didn't hurry, Griffith would surely be finishing in a very unsatisfied way due to his own cowardice. There was nothing to fear. Guts slid down deeper at a faster pace and the blonde's hips twitched, jutting forward slightly, but just enough to force his cock deeper inside of him quick enough to make Guts freeze with pain. Shit. That was the other problem. He certainly remembered this pain, though this was far from as bad as that night, but dammit, pain in that region was difficult to grapple with as it nagged at his psyche, demanding he remembered things long gone. 

Guts' heart quivered when his eyes fell to Griffith; those glazed blue eyes had settled on him while whose lips parted as if to speak, though no sound really passed from him. A sudden bolt of resolve shot through Guts and steeled his heart; he was not afraid, he loved this man, swore to this man. He took in a deep breath and with a slow exhale slid down, Griffith's cock spreading him open wider and filling him deeper. Tension trembled Guts' body as Griffith's head fell back, an open-mouthed moan cracking form the back of his throat as his hips slammed forward, ramming his cock up to the base against the larger man's ass, forcing Guts' back to snap back as his hands slapped over his mouth, muffling a loud, garbled sound as tears pricked from the far corners of his eyes. Fuck! After a second the blonde's body relaxed onto the wagon floor with Guts in tow, their fast, heavy breaths filling the space of the wagon. Slowly Guts managed to relax and lowered his trembling hands from his flushed face. It took a moment for the blonde to regain his bearings, but when he did their eyes met once more, faces flushed and lips parted while sweat misted their skin.

"D-damn, you've got more strength in you than I thought," Guts whispered, his voice sounding oddly loud in his ears as he slowly leaned forward onto his hands and leaned into Griffith's face, registering the sensation of his best friend's cock bending with him. As the blonde's composure fully returned, so did the calculating, in control look of his eyes; though if Guts judged right, there was something still struggling to catch up, something still lost in pleasure and all too acutely aware of what his dick was inside of, and was probably wanting things to get a move on. Though unsure, Guts leaned forward until his lips ghosted over Griffith's, and though he briefly hesitated when he touched their mouths together, Griffith's eyelids softly closed. Taking that as an invitation Guts pressed his tongue in between his best friend's parted lips and into his mouth, this time more comfortably exploring and feeling what remained of Griffith's adamant tongue. When they broke apart for breath, Guts smiled.

"I guess we should start moving since the hard part's over. I gotta say, it's a relief," Guts said as he sat back upright on the blonde's hips. A tender emotion flashed across Griffith's features, accentuated by the twist of his delicate brow, perhaps a sort of wince before he gave a weak nod. Guts' smile grew, relief flooding his suddenly fluttering heart. Good. Hopefully, he wouldn't run his mouth off and ruin everything a second time that night. 

Awkwardness flushed Guts' while he adjusted his balance, feeling all too keenly every shift against the stiff flesh buried inside him. It wasn't so bad, truly. In his head, he had always made it out to be a much more traumatizing experience than it truly was, and with the realization came a fluttering of his heart as his blood rushed hot through his veins. A goofy grin spread Guts' broad lips as he released a short chuckle. 

"Always terrified of this. But it's really... not such a bad thing. I guess the situation and feelings do matter the most in this kind of thing. It's... such a relief," he said as he adjusted his knees and took a breath. Using the strength of his powerful thighs the Guts slid himself up, a short, low gasp escaping him as the blonde's swollen cock rubbed against his insides, eliciting a confusing sensation of discomfort for the way his stretched taut skin scraped against the blonde's cock and the pleasure that shocked him off guard. A moan oozed from Griffith's mouth as Guts slid himself back down, faster but still slow and cautious. However, a jerk of the blonde's hips finished the meeting of their bodies suddenly and a choked grunt caught the air in the back of Guts' throat as his head jerked back slightly as a hot strike of pleasure shot through his body stiffening his flagging erection. 

"Fuck," Guts rasped slightly as he slid up, and then down faster, the thrust of Griffith's hips rubbing his cock against something inside him that made his cock throb and leak as shocks of pleasure began to work through his senses, growing stronger with each slide. The blonde's shallow chest heaved with his wheezing breaths as his hands trembled with tension. The sounds of pleasure that filled Griffith's breathy gasps accompanied with the heating pleasure that zipped up his spine and through his cock fueled Guts' confidence as he increased his speed, sliding himself up and down the blonde's dick. Guts quickly figured out the optimum movements and angles to make sure Griffith's cock rubbed against that sweet spot exactly how he wanted it, only adding fuel to the fire that burned his body hotter. Faster and with increased abandon he rode the blonde whose arms and body shook in pleasure as both attempted to move, though the larger of the two maintained control of the dance. 

"Shit, Griffith, I... I really didn't think it'd feel this good," Guts' groaned low, his words punctuated by heavy breaths as he leaned forward onto his hands and to his delight, found it easier to move his hips in faster. Hoarse sounds scratched passed the blonde's lips as his flushed faze and glazed eyes periodically made contact with Guts. Rough and more zealous Guts moved, making sure to push Griffith's cock as deep and hard inside him as he could, against that spot that made his balls swell and draw up with the increasingly desperate throbbing of his dick. Griffith's mouth would open and more than once Guts thought the blonde was about to say something, but of course, reality always brought with it only a garbled moan that broke into the air. Muscles flexed as sweat slid down their bodies and pooled where they connected, soaking through their hair as their bodies rocked and bumped upon the wagon floor. 

"Gr-Griffith," Guts groaned, muscles quivering with each move of his body, mirroring the way the blonde's atrophied muscles trembled and twitched each time his cock was swallowed by the tight ring of muscles, rubbing deliciously fast. Each forward and backward slide drew breathless moans and grunts from each man as their low, heavy breathing filled what was becoming a stuffy space. Guts' head buzzed with incoherence, any clear thought saturated by a pleasure induced haze that only urged him to continue riding his best friend's dick to achieve that end, that torturous but supremely satisfying end. Griffith at times seemed to struggle to breathe, but never did he give any inclination for anything but more; faster, deeper, his hips giving meager demands with their encouraging jerks. Guts' cock throbbed almost painfully as it bounced with each bump and slide, embarrassing in how it drooled from the exposed red head onto the blonde's abdomen. 

"I-I think I'm close," Guts rasped and a strange, almost inhuman sound choked up from the back of Griffith's mouth as his head pulled up and their eyes met. Those eyes, pupils blown wide and hyper-focused despite a clear haze of pleasure that threatened to roll his eyes back ripped a powerful want through Guts' body. He got it. Somehow, he just understood. Griffith wanted him to cum, wanted him to finish even if he was too physically frail to do anything to help, he wanted Guts to surrender upon that moment of climax and bind himself, body and soul to him. Like a thought that pressed into his mind, almost like he had developed some sort of unexplainable connection that birthed a thought link. Though in reality, Guts would later rationalize it was probably just his own thoughts and desires mirrored back at him due to Griffith's lack of articulate expression. 

True or not a rush hotter than any fire that could have burned him swept through his body as his cock throbbed, ached, pushing Guts that much closer with each slide against his prostate. Tension wound tight through his muscles as his cock throbbed, threatening, inching so much closer when Griffith emitted a sharp, short cut gasp as he jammed his hips forward clumsily while Guts slid back down, pushing hard against his sweet spot. Sparks felt to shoot through his heart as it hammered maddeningly against his chest, the sharp, powerful jolt of pleasure exploding through his nervous system, forcing every muscle to lock tight as cum shot from the heavily leaking swollen head of his cock and onto the belly below him. Assailed by powerful tremors that steeled every muscle fiber Guts froze over Griffith who had gone still as well, weak body shaking with the overpowering demand upon his broken body. As the moment of intense white noise faded from Guts' ears and his muscles went slack, he let himself sink but not quite rest on top of Griffith, the side of his face hitting the pillow the blonde's head rest upon. 

Both remained still, panting while the heat and pleasure of their sex cooled, chilling them as the sweat that slicked their skin turned against them. A pleasurable hum moved through his muscles as Guts rolled over off of his best friend, whose soft cock slipped wetly out of him before he settled onto his back at the man's side. It was quiet for a long few drawn-out moments while each listened to the recovering breath of the other. As energy began to return to his mind and allow his thoughts to focus, Guts sat up on his hip and elbow, a palm supporting his head as he looked at Griffith who remained on his back. It was only a second later before the blonde turned his head and looked at him, their gazes meeting. And damn it if Griffith wasn't already composed and calm even as the raven-haired man could see the feel rise and fall of his bone-thin chest. There was still a slight flush to his cheekbones and his hair had become quite the stringy mess as it still half stuck to him, but other than that he looked like they hadn't just been fucking. A pout pursed Guts' lips. 

"You always look so damn cool and in control, while the rest of us just flounder around like idiots," Guts said as he twisted and sat up with his back to Griffith, his legs drawing up to cross.

"But I guess, that's one of the things I like about you. Used to piss me off when you first inducted me into the Hawks though," Guts admitted before turned a toothy grin over his shoulder. A soft smile crossed the blonde's lips, but with it came a quickly building haze of exhaustion. Guts chuckled. 

"Yeah, you must be tired as fuck, huh? I'll get you dressed and you can sleep," he said as he moved over and grabbed the blonde's braies and shirt. After helping Griffith to dress and, much to his disappointment, replace his best friend's helmet on his head, he dropped down to lie at the blonde's side. 

"We'll be riding out tomorrow morning early. Judeau wants to head toward this place he knows, and no one really complained, well, except Corkus. So, we'll be heading that way and then we'll figure things out. Most important will be seeing what we can do about getting you healthy of course, and Pippin seems to think he might be able to find a doctor who can help you with your arms and legs. But, guess we'll shelve that for now," Guts whispered as his eyelids started to droop and a yawn erupted from his mouth. One hell of a day. First that monster and all the shit with Zodd coming back, and now he'd conquered one of his biggest personal fears. A good rest was definitely earned. Both men lay on their sides facing one another, Guts having allowed himself to relax while sharing Griffith's pillow, his right hand forward and at rest on the blonde's side.

Even long after Guts had nodded off, every time Griffith's eyes would occasionally start to close they would fly open wide and he'd simply stare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can't help but think: that wagon was probably rocking/creaking... in the middle of camp. LOLZ
> 
> Well, that's it for this little fic. I have a couple of ideas that are more in the fully-fledged story category, but I don't know if I have the concentration at the moment to work on them. But if I can get on it, you'll be seeing more from me!


End file.
